


Sanzo's Raisins (2008)

by JennyB



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Community: 30kisses, Dreams, Future, Gen, Interrupted Kiss, Platonic Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-31
Updated: 2008-01-31
Packaged: 2018-07-12 03:24:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7083205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennyB/pseuds/JennyB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An older Sanzo ruminates on penjing and philosophy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanzo's Raisins (2008)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the LJ community 30kisses, prompt#6 - 'the space between dream and reality'

It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was shining – it wasn't yet the scorching heat of summertime, but there was a warmth in the air that the feeble days of winter were never able to carry. A gentle breeze blew across the yard, and Sanzo was standing in front of a small table, upon which sat a large, shallow rectangular tray. He was carefully pruning branches from a small tree with miniature tools, and painstakingly transplanting lichen to small pebbles that had been deliberately set into the sandy soil. He looked up, and wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. When he and the rest of the ikkou had returned from India, he had never imagined that he'd take a liking to penjing, but with the Minus Wave stopped, and peace again returning to Shangri-La, he'd found the hobby oddly relaxing. He enjoyed tinkering with his miniature landscapes, and as the years had passed, he'd taken a secret thrill in watching the small changes that took place from season to season.

Setting down his tools, he took a sip of iced tea from the glass that sat on the edge of his worktable, and after he'd set it down, his lips curved up a bit in the barest of smiles. There were a lot of things in his life now that he had never imagined himself liking back then, and were anyone to ask him, he'd be hard pressed to say that he wasn't happier now. He picked up his tools once more, only to scowl irritably and swat at a bug that was buzzing in his ear. A moment later, he was once again alone with his thoughts and his work. After a while, his mind had again begun to wander, and he found himself thinking about his current situation. He was still in Chang'An, though he'd stepped back a bit and was mostly overseeing things. That suited him fine. He liked that he wasn't expected to teach or to lead prayer, and that for the most part the other monks left him the hell alone – save for when they wanted something. That only served to piss him off on countless levels, and after he'd dealt with whatever minor crisis they needed averted, he would often return to his penjing.

The small gnat was once again buzzing in his ear, and this time when he swatted it, he smashed it on the tabletop, glad to be done with the damned thing once and for all. He took a deep breath and picked up his glass. He was going inside – he needed to step away for a few minutes lest he arse up a decade's worth of work. As he crossed the small compound toward his cottage, he thought about his former ikkou. Goku was still a regular fixture at the temple, but for want of something to do, he'd started teaching in town at one of the dojos. And the senseis had been only too happy to have him. His presence was most noticeable on weekends and in the evenings, but for the most part, he stayed out of Sanzo's way when he was working – after all, the harisen was never _too_ far out of the monk's reach.

Gojyo had opted to return to India to be closer to his brother. When everything had gone down, it had turned out that Kougaiji was actually an ally, and had assisted them in stopping the resurrection. Gojyo had been surprised at the demon prince's offer to stay as one of his personal guards, like Dokugakuji, and he'd said that he needed to think about it. Within days of their return to Chang'An, he'd made his decision, and within a week, he'd set off once more.

That left Hakkai. The gentle healer, now sans roommate, had returned to Gojyo's old apartment and had set up the space for himself. He'd managed to get another teaching job – with older children this time – and he seemed content in that role. After about two months had passed, Sanzo had woken one night to a soft rain and an even softer knocking on his door. Making a mental note to kill whoever it was, he flung open the door, his angry diatribe dying on his lips when he saw the green-eyed demon standing there, soaking wet, and looking completely shattered. To say that he was shocked would have been an understatement, but upon later reflection, it shouldn't have been all that surprising. After all, Hakkai was the most social of the four, the one who seemed to need someone around him. And when all was said and done, he was the only one who had been left alone when the mission had ended.

That night, after he'd gotten Hakkai dried off, he'd just sat with him. Sanzo had leaned against the wall, the window opened a crack as he had smoked, his other hand petting lightly through the dark tresses as the demon had rested his head on his lap. It was the most intimate the two of them had ever been, and Sanzo found that he actually liked the feel of the silky, chocolate hair between his fingers – he'd never realized just how soft it really was – and the comfortable silence that existed between them.

As time wore on, this ritual between them continued. At first, Hakkai had seemed hesitant to return, worried that he'd piss off the monk, afraid to ask for what it was he wanted. It was only on nights when the rain was particularly harsh that Sanzo would be woken by the gentle tapping at his door. Eventually, he just came to expect it, and would doze softly while waiting for his guest. Finally, Sanzo had just come out and told the healer that he didn't need to wait for the rain to pay him a visit. After that, Hakkai would come visit him like clockwork every weekend. The dark-haired man would putter in Sanzo's cottage, cleaning things up, cooking for him, visiting with Goku, and the monk would spend his time doing his thing. In the evenings, after the meal had been eaten and dishes put away, the two of them would curl up and Sanzo would card through the dark brown locks. Hakkai would sit contentedly, never asking for anything more – though the monk would have willingly done so if he had. And that thought freaked him out more than just a little bit – after all, he'd never really been that willing to share himself with anyone.

Sanzo gave his head a shake as he entered his cottage, pushing the memories back to the far recesses of his mind. A hint of a smile settled on his face when he saw Hakkai standing by the stove and stirring something in a pot as he poured some cream into it. He could smell the chocolate, and the monk knew that the other was making a custard of some sort – he could see the ramekins already sitting on the counter. Silently, he watched as the taller male carefully poured the contents into four dishes, and then set the pot to soak in the sink. And he chuckled softly when he was addressed – the other not needing to see him to know he was there.

"Finished already?" Hakkai asked quietly. "I'd have thought you'd be good for another few hours at least."

"I'm going to head back out soon. I just wanted to get another drink, and get out of the sun for a minute."

The demon turned, his green eyes slightly concerned at that. "Do you need to be wearing a hat? I didn't think sunstroke was likely today, but I suppose it is possible…"

Sanzo shook his head. "No…It was more I was getting pissed off at a…something." He didn't really want to tell the other that a small insect was the current source of his frustration.

If he'd caught the slip, Hakkai didn't let on. "I see. Considering how hard you've been working on your penjing, it would be a shame to see something happen to it." He smiled softly. "I was watching you working on it for a while when I was sweeping the front porch. Such concentration!" he teased.

Sanzo snorted in amusement. "Smartass," he replied with a smirk, and then his expression softened as he moved into the kitchen to stand beside Hakkai to set his glass down on the counter. Violet eyes flicked up to the long fringe that hung haphazardly in the dark-haired man's eyes, and for the first time he noticed the slight tinge of grey. They were both getting older, and time was forever moving forward. He'd always lived without regret… He returned his gaze to the brilliant green, and he smiled. "I was deceiving you. My mind was focused elsewhere – I'm surprised I didn't lop off an important branch."

Hakkai arched an elegant brow at that. "Really? Well, what were you thinking about so intently?"

The priest's smile widened, and he brushed his fingers through the long bangs, his hand coming to rest on the other's cheek. "You." At seeing the shocked expression, he chuckled again. "I can't explain it, Hakkai. _La coeur a ses raisons_ …" Slowly, he leaned in, their lips almost touching, and then…

"God damn it!" Sanzo jerked awake in the passenger seat, rubbing at his ear in irritation, the harisen in his hand. Violet eyes were murderous, and he hoped like hell he'd caught that stupid insect that had woken him up. A groan from behind him caught his attention, and as he gazed at the two idiots in the back, he saw Goku rubbing at his head.

"What the hell did you do that for, Sanzo?" Goku demanded petulantly.

"I told you to leave him alone, Goku," Hakkai chided gently from the driver's seat. "Really though, Sanzo…that was pretty impressive. You got him three times while sleeping, and didn't miss once!"

Gojyo, who was laughing, gave the teen a shove. "Yeah, Monkey. You got a death wish or something?"

Goku, after kicking the redhead away from him, looked contritely up at the irate priest, and he shrank back in his seat, lest he get hit with the fan again. "You asked if I'd care for some of your raisins. And I'm _so hungry_ …"

"Idiot!" Sanzo seethed. "I didn't say anything like that, and I don't have anything to eat. Now shut up and leave me the hell alone, or next time, I swear, I'll kill you and put us _both_ out of our misery!"

"But Sanzo…Ow!" the golden-eyed teen rubbed his head again, and turned to rest his head on the siderails. "But I heard you…" he mumbled.

Giving himself an indignant shake and smoothing down his robes, the priest returned to his seat and lit up a cigarette. As he smoked in silence, he thought about what Goku had said, and suddenly, he arched a brow. He'd been talking in his sleep, and the monkey had heard the French. He snorted impatiently. "Raisins! Moron," he muttered, and then he cast a glance at the man beside him. As always, Hakkai looked blissfully oblivious to what was going on around him, and Sanzo wondered if he, too, had heard him.

A moment later, green eyes glanced sidelong at him, and with a pert smirk, Hakkai said quietly, "I had no idea you were a fan of Blaise Pascal, Sanzo." The dark-haired youkai turned his attention back to the road, but if anything, the smirk widened _just a little_.

"Ch…smartass," the priest replied churlishly, though there was a bit of a smile on his face. Perhaps one day in the near future, he'd invite Hakkai to debate the finer points of philosophy.


End file.
